


Quiet Night In

by PhilosophicalRune



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Anxiety, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Shyan Writing Events, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, shyan, skeptic believer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 14:36:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15888021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhilosophicalRune/pseuds/PhilosophicalRune
Summary: As the season premiere of BuzzFeed Unsolved: Supernatural draws closer and closer, the pressure to deliver begins to bear down heavily upon Ryan. As Shane notices that Ryan is starting to overwork himself, he takes the necessary steps (bribery is too strong a word) to ensure that Ryan is well taken care of in both mind and spirit. What results is a quiet night in where the boys can let down the facades they keep on for the camera and finally be themselves for a few hours.





	Quiet Night In

“Wanna come to my place?”

Ryan looked up from where he had buried his head in his tired arms atop of his desk, wearily seeing Shane sitting at the desk next to him with an equally exhausted look in his eyes. They had been working side by side most of the day, trapped indoors on a particularly hot and rainy day as they either researched or scoured through hours of near silent audio from a recent shooting in some decrepit shithole they had spent the night in. The office overall held an aura of tension as thick as the humidity outdoors; eyes glowered, people snapped, tempers broke. Overall, it could be colored as a rough day at BuzzFeed. 

Ryan glanced at his phone; it was becoming rather late for two guys who had been working since eight that morning. Simmering rays of golden, evening sunlight filtered in through the cracks of the blinds in the office windows, flickering flashing as raindrops danced between the light and the clouds. More and more people were filing towards the elevators, eyes heavy and shoulders hunched. The office was caught in the midweek lull, and Ryan wanted nothing more than to go home with Shane and eat something warm, away from the office with nothing to offer but stale chips and flat soda. 

“I just got  _ It… _ ” Shane said in a singsong voice, his eyebrows quirked as he stretched his arms over his head. He grinned over at Ryan as he began to spin in slow circles in his wheely chair.

“Got what?” Ryan responded wearily, removing one headphone from his ear so that he could listen to both Shane and the seventeenth hour of paranormal-activity-free audio.

“ _ It. _ You know, the movie with the creepy fuckin’ clown that’s dragging kids down the sewer?” Shane said, his arms behind his head still as he paused in his spinning to gauge Ryan’s response.

Silence.

“Oh,” Ryan replied absently, his eyes fixed on the screen before him as if hypnotized.

Shane clicked his tongue gently on the roof of his mouth and tilted his head to the side. He squinted at Ryan, who was still gazing thickly at his monitor, very much lost in the noises of supposed spooks. He was quite familiar with this situation, and by experience, he was quite familiar with how to get them both out of this Bergara workaholic situation.

“All work and no play makes Boogara a dull guy,” Shane commented sagely, leaning forward in his chair so that his elbows rested on his knees, his hands reaching forward to grab one of Ryan’s audio recorders and tossing it from hand to hand.

Ryan puffed a heavy sigh and huffily adjusted his headphones more comfortably over his ears. “I need to finish this audio, Shane,” he muttered, marking a time where he thought he heard a voice - or was he imagining things? - and settling back into his chair. Shane clicked his tongue again when he gauged how deep the bags beneath Ryan’s eyes were becoming.

“Aww, come on, Ry!” Shane whined, using his heels to sail forward on his chair moment later, “You’ve been listening to dust and shoe scrapes for  _ hours _ !”

“They are  _ not _ shoe scrapes!” Ryan hissed.

“They’re probably shoe scrapes,” Shane said as he bumped into Ryan, the cord of Ryan’s headphones becoming taut. 

“You’re a fucking shoe scrape,” Ryan muttered, shoving Shane’s chair away.

There was a few seconds worth of tense silence where Ryan continued to listen and Shane watched as the office continued to thin of people, the sounds of computers shutting down and stiff joints cracking filling the musty air as their colleagues had the sense to just leave work for tomorrow and relax.

Shane sighed, wheeling up to rest his chin on the back of Ryan’s chair. Ryan completely ignored him, marking on his notebook certain times of aural importance and also doodling little ghosts and bats. The handwriting was getting progressively worse and more shorthand the longer Shane scanned the page. Ryan was working himself thin, and both of them knew it.

Shane took one last glance around the room to assure that no prying eyes were looking before leaning forward and gently pressing a faint kiss to Ryan’s temple. He grinned when he noticed Ryan’s ears flush red and goosebumps appear on his arms. 

“Come on, little guy,” he murmured, “The ghouls will be here in the morning.”

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of this glorious and compelling audio evidence of the paranormal,” Ryan said dryly, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing only briefly out of the corner of his eye at his partner.

“Mhm,” Shane said, rolling back to his desk, his eyes looking heavenward as he ticked off his fingers, “Then I guess you won’t be able to hear when I say that I’m going to buy you a burrito bowl from Chipotle with all the weird sauces and dips you like…”

Ryan’s pen stopped. 

Shane continued with the beginnings of a triumphant grin forming on his lips, oscillating as he went on,“Then we can go home and get out of this rather unpleasant weather, maybe pop some popcorn, and, now that I think more of it, maybe not watch  _ It  _ as I’m sure your brain would fucking melt if you see any more spectre filled stuff, so maybe  _ X-Files  _ or something…”

Ryan clicked the pen closed, and Shane smirked as the headphones came off. Ryan turned to face him, a grin fighting it’s way onto his face. “...Alright, Legs, you win.”

Shane chuckled as he stood up, stretching once more as he watched Ryan save his audio files and begin to pack away his things; he himself had already packed his laptop away, well aware that he could easily bribe Ryan with food and a quiet night in after a loud day out at work.

Soon, Ryan was shouldering on his jacket and looking up at Shane with a sheepish but also snarky expression on his face, his hand resting on his laptop bag..

“You know,” he said, taking a small step forward, “I wish you found the evidence to be as compelling as I find your persuasion to be.”

Shane hummed, his eyes heavily lidding as he watched a bright grin emerge on his boyfriend’s face. “You’ll get there someday,” he murmured before leaning down to steal another kiss, one that was quick but readily taken. Ryan pulled away seconds later and giggled, gently pushing Shane away. Even now, months after they had begun officially dating, Ryan still blushed after they kissed and giggled like a teenager. 

Shane loved it.

“Ready?” Shane asked as a now smiling Ryan double checked his desk to ensure that he had not left anything behind. He stuffed one hand into his jacket pocket and held the other out. Ryan’s cheeks dimpled as he sidled up to Shane, fitting perfectly into the one armed embrace. He opened his mouth to reply, but all that came forth was a stiff yawn.

Shane puffed through his nose with amusement and pulled Ryan closer as they began to walk, bumping their shoulders together as they wound their way through the familiar maze of desks.

“Let’s get you home, bud,” Shane said quietly, his tone a little hurt as he was forced to unwind his arm from around Ryan’s warm, slumped shoulders as people noticed them and began to engage them in ‘see you tomorrow’ conversations.

Ryan yawned in agreement, his heavy eyes sparkling nonetheless as they made their way out into the rainy parking garage, their hands interlinking as soon as soon as they were out of eyeshot of all others who also sought to decompress with those they loved at the end of a long, long day.

But for Shane and Ryan, the day had just begun.

 

* * *

 

They drove first to Ryan’s apartment, where Ryan parked his car and ditched his stuff for work on the behest of Shane (“Work related stuff is illegal in my complex. Once you cross the threshold of the Madej household, all those who are caught working are  _ burnt at the stake _ ” “(wheeze)”) and gathered anything he might need for an overnight at Shane’s. He never really brought anything with him whenever he plopped into the passenger seat of Shane’s car, except for maybe any treats he had in his apartment at the time, for already a vast quantity of Ryan’s belongings had amassed at Shane’s place. A similar scene was to be found at Ryan’s apartment for Shane.

Next they drove to their favorite Chipotle, where the staff knew their orders and Shane frequently waved Ryan’s wallet away. Ryan was getting sleepier and sleepier, for as they waited for their food to be made, Ryan kept leaning into Shane, his eyes heavy and glazed as he watched his burrito bowl get cooked.

“You gonna make it, shortstop?” Shane chuckled, looking down as he felt Ryan interlock their fingers and roll Shane’s long fingers between his own, his grip hardening and loosening as if he was moulding play doh.

“If I don’t, ghost hunt for me,” Ryan mumbled.

“No point; you’d be dead and I ain’t coming into a fuckin Chipotle with the spirit box, I’d scare the locals,” Shane said cheekily, loosening his fingers so that Ryan could fidget with them as he pleased.

Ryan sighed but smiled anyway. “You mean you wouldn’t break into a Chipotle after hours to commune with me if I died?”

“...Can’t say I would,” Shane replied, wrapping his arm again around Ryan, who hummed happily and stepped closer, his fidgety hands reaching instead for the strings of Shane’s jacket.

“Rude.”

After their food arrived, Shane quietly discerned the fact that Ryan did not want to eat in the restaurant, a fact duly noted by the uncharacteristically nasty look he kept shooting at a couple with three rowdy, screaming children. And so they went back to the car, holding their food close to their chests as they pelted across the parking lot so as to avoid the falling rain, and made the drive back to Shane’s apartment.

Ryan only seemed to release his tension when he crossed the threshold into Shane’s apartment. Shane smiled softly as he saw Ryan’s eyes gently close as he breathed in deeply, his chest rising and slowly falling as he breathed out a nearly inaudible sigh. His lips curled into a grin as he reopened his eyes and moved deeper into the familiar apartment. He followed the flattened path of carpet that wound from the door to the small table set up in the kitchen, Shane close behind.

“Home sweet home, motherfucker!” Shane said cheerily, tossing his Chipotle onto the table and going in to hug Ryan from behind, eliciting a squawk of protest followed by a laugh that Shane adored. He could feel Ryan squeeze the arms Shane had wrapped around his chest before he squirmed to be released and turned to face Shane, looking up with a slight pout to his lips and his eyebrows scrunched together. His eyes looked rather shinier than usual, and he was blinking rapidly as if to dispel a speck of dust from his quickly reddening eyes.

Ryan opened his mouth as if to speak, but he snapped it shut seconds after. His lips thinned, and his eyes fell to the ground.

Immediately, Shane knew something was wrong.

“Alright, little guy?” Shane asked softly, the large grin on his face deflating as Ryan slumped forward and buried his face into Shane’s chest, where Shane could feel him shaking softly. He was quick to engulf the smaller man in a hug, moving closer so as to reassure Ryan with his warmth. Despite himself, he felt his heart pound, and his hands roved almost unconsciously over Ryan’s back, neck, and head, almost as if he was searching for the source of Ryan’s pain.

“Yeah, m’fine,” Ryan blatantly lied in a tiny, muffled voice. Shane was only mildly relieved when Ryan reached up to squeeze him in a tight hug, his fingers squeezing tightly at the fabric of Shane’s damp jacket. There would be creases in the jacket tomorrow, but Shane’s mounting worry far outweighed any care he put into fashion.

Shane’s face softened, and he silently, helplessly sighed as he gently gathered Ryan closer to himself, minutely swaying from side to side as he did so. As he gently brought his fingers up to Ryan’s head, the tips of his fingers burrowing into Ryan’s wet hair, he wished for the thousandth time that he could eradicate any trace of anxiety seething in Ryan’s brain. But, as he had learned, eradication took many forms that, in some cases, did not work at all.

“‘M sorry,” Ryan muttered, moving his face to rest his cheek against Shane’s chest. Shane’s heart sank when he saw a stray tear running down Ryan’s cheek, and further still it sunk when he realized that Ryan was apologizing,  _ again _ .

“Hey, man, you’re good. You never got to apologize to me because of...anxiety,” Shane whispered moments later, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Ryan’s hair. His neck, sore from a day hunched over a computer, whined at the strain, but he did not care in the slightest, for he was rewarded for his efforts by a faint dimple forming on Ryan’s cheek

“I know…” Ryan whined, glancing up to make hesitant eye contact, “I’m just…”

He swallowed and looked away, squeezing Shane tighter.

Shane smiled sympathetically. “Getting a little anxious?”

Ryan barked a hollowed laugh.

“Bit of an understatement. It just...it just really hit me, like out of the blue, you know?” Ryan whispered, “I guess now that I’m home I...I…”

His voice trailed off into nothingness and he seemed to shake harder, as if trying his damndest to stop himself from melting.

“...Wanna talk about it?” Shane murmured in a soft, modulated voice that would not hurt Ryan’s sensory overloaded ears and rubbing rhythmic,calming circles into his back.

Ryan pulled away slowly and shrugged, stuffing his hands deep into his hoodie pocket and gazing at the floor. “I mean there’s not much to talk about; it’s all the...it’s all the usual stuff that’s making me a little nervous.”

“Hmm,” Shane hummed patiently, waiting for Ryan to go on. Ryan hated talking about his anxiety and, by extension, anything that made him anxious, but Shane knew it was good for him to vocalize his worries; it brought his fears into perspective.

“You know...I wanna make good content, get it out in time, but I’m not sure we’ll be able to put together this Supernatural in time,” Ryan said, kicking at an invisible speck on the carpet, “And overall I just...I’m just  _ nervous.  _ A lot.”

“It’s OK, man,” Shane said, ruffling Ryan’s hair and grinning in a way to mask his utter ineptitude at comforting, “We’ve felt like this before and we always get on through it!”

“Yeah,” Ryan said in a cracked voice, wiping a tear from his face.

“Statistically speaking, we’re gonna get the series premiere out on time, because, you know, we’ve gotten the others out in time,” Shane said, scrambling to piece together comforting words, putting his hands in his pocket and shifting from foot to foot discreetly, “And you’re not alone in Unsolved, remember?”

Ryan blinked, cracked a wet smile, and giggled. “Hard to miss one of those fucking noodle guys outside of car dealerships.”

Shane grinned and wiggled his long limbs in imitation of said ‘noodle guy’, pulling a comical expression on his face and making inhuman noises that had Ryan giggling once again and rubbing the tears from his eyes, his shoulders slowly hunching.

Shane paused moments later, much more out of breath then he would like to admit, and looked warmly down at Ryan, his mouth gentle and his eyes lidded. Ryan shot him a shaky smile; still nervous but getting better. “Thanks, Shane.”

“No problem, bud,” Shane hummed, pulling Ryan into a gentle headlock and rubbing the softest of noogies into Ryan’s scalp, grinning as Ryan’s mock forlorn cries were heard as he squirmed.

When Ryan squirmed away, he pointed a plastic fork fished from the Chipotle bag threateningly at Shane, his serious demeanor punctured by the smile causing his severe mouth to wiggle and the shiny tear tracks on his cheeks. “Someday, I’m gonna grow and get just an  _ inch  _ above you so I can  _ assault  _ your head and...stuff.”

Shane chuckled. “I don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“...You’re right,” Ryan conceded, though his quirked eyebrow suggested mischief, “Normal humans don’t grow to be six feet eight million inches or whatever the fuck you are.”

Shane barked out a laugh, causing Ryan to jump as he rummaged in the warm, rain spattered Chipotle bag. “I’d say that’s a low blow, Ry, but every blow you can give me reaches about-” he held his hand up to his chest, “yea high?”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan said, his eyes flying open as he pulled out his burrito bowl. Shane could almost hear the smaller man’s stomach growl. Shane could smell the spice of the burrito and he himself felt his stomach quaver, but he had other things in mind. 

“I think I’m going to grab a quick shower,” he said, instinctively placing his hand on the small of Ryan’s back and watching as the man carefully opened the burrito bowl and began pouring extra sauces onto it, “Is that OK or do you want some company?”

Ryan paused to think but shook his head as he licked guacamole from his still shaking fingers. “Nah, go shower. I’ll be alright. You smell like shit, anyway.”

“Rude,” Shane gasped, splaying his fingers over his heart and touching his own temple with his finger, swaying as he did so like an overzealous actor.

“I’m kidding,” Ryan said, rolling his eyes but smiling nonetheless as he stirred the burrito with his fork, “I probably don’t smell like a rose either, but I gotta eat before I do anything.”

“It’ll help you feel better,” Shane said sagely, “Burritos always soothe the malcontent flying in the soul.”

Ryan’s faint grin rimmed with splashes of sour cream. “You have a soul?”

Shane winked, and was met halfway by Ryan as he leant down, silence falling briefly over the room as they kissed.

As Shane took long strides in the direction of the bathroom moments later, Ryan gently, absentmindedly touched his lips.

The sour cream was gone. 

He smiled.

 

* * *

 

Ryan heard the bathroom door creak closed and the shower shuddering on as he padded gently into Shane’s bedroom. His stomach quaked so harshly it almost hurt. He knew full well that his anxiety levels were greatly influenced by how much food was in his stomach, but he also knew that they increased if he was wearing uncomfortable clothes. Not that his current outfit was uncomfortable; but for some reason, his damp Unsolved hoodie and jeans seemed unfitting with the rush of the shower and the splattering of rain on the nearby window pane. He gently walked over to the window that cast the last rays of daylight on the rumpled bed sheets and pulled the creaky window closed. 

He stood there for a moment, watching the city pass outside the small window before the rainwater in the folds of his elbows ignited in him a faint spark of sensory irritation. Another minute with the chilly sogginess on his skin would drive him crazier than he already was. With a harried noise spat between his teeth, he tugged off the sweatshirt, the heat and damp of his skin spiraling invisibly in the air, washing his skin with a sense of serenity. He tossed the hoodie into the general vicinity of the kitchen, and shucked off his soaked jeans, which quickly followed suit.

He knelt down in front of the scarred bureau that stood off to the side of the room, pulling open the bottom drawer and wincing at the creak it made. Inside was a poorly folded conglomeration of Ryan’s clothes, shirts he hadn’t seen in ages, soft pjs, and warm socks. He withdrew a simple pair of baggy grey sweats and pulled on a pair of soft red socks. As he heard Shane drop a shampoo bottle in the shower and swear faintly, he chuckled and peeled off his sticky t-shirt. He rooted around in the drawer, searching for a shirt that just clicked with his current mood. Getting changed was a soothing task for him; he loved to feel the different textures under his fingers, sensations that drove his mind away from it’s scared corners.

However, none of the shirts he had squished in that drawer seemed to feel right. They were too itchy or too tight. He sighed, shutting the door and, in dire straits, pulled open one of Shane’s drawers, rooting around the shirts and the occasional stray sock until he pulled out a black tank top that he was fairly certain was his anyway, as to Shane it would be a wannabe crop top. The fabric was very soft, new in texture. He smiled, and slipped it on, the soft fabric soothing his skin and calming his ebbing nerves. Satisfied in heart but homicidal in stomach, he shut the drawer and hurried to the kitchen. The scents of chicken reached his nose and immediately his mouth watered.

However, constantly being a Good Samaritan, he bundled his damp clothes in his hands and, reaching into the bathroom with a blind hand to claw at Shane’s equally damp clothes, hurried down the stairs of the complex to the laundry room, where he stuffed the clothes in an open washer so as to get rid of LA mud cast by furiously driving cars, and finally ran back upstairs to eat his burrito.

When Shane emerged from the shower, a towel around his waist, he saw Ryan at his seat at the table, perusing his phone and chewing vast amounts of rice, chicken, vegetables, and sauce. To Shane’s relief, his eyes were basically dry, and he seemed much slower in his movements. Movements that were jerky, fast, and near constant, Shane had learned, signified that Ryan was becoming tense, a knot of anxiety gnawing at his chest and clawing at his eyes. His ankles were kicking a hair's breadth above the floor. Shane felt a smile bloom on his face.

“Did you take my clothes?” Shane called, causing Ryan to jerk up and with wide eyes.

“Nah, I think this is mine,” Ryan said moments later, looking down at the tank top he was wearing and plucking at the fabric, “It was in your drawers though, so I don’t know-”

“Nah, I mean the clothes I was just wearing,” Shane said, walking over and sending tiny droplets of water over Ryan as he snatched a fingerful of chicken from his bowl, “Didja eat them or something?”

“Yeah, sorry, they were really good,” Ryan replied without missing a beat, smacking Shane’s hand away with a playful glint in his eyes,”Really...fibrous.”

Shane snorted. “Fibrous?!”

Ryan snickered.

“You’re fucking weird, dude.”

“I know. In all seriousness, I put our clothes in the wash.”

Shane shook his head and went to his bedroom to change, the scents of Ryan’s burrito mixing with the earthy scent of his shampoo. He smiled, for he knew that Ryan going on odd tangents was a sign that he was feeling better. Slightly chilled by the ambient temperature but far too lazy to change the thermostat, he changed into comfortable clothes; dark sweatpants and a simple red T-shirt. Ruffling the damp towel through his hair, he walked back out into the kitchen to find Ryan nearly finished his food. Famished himself, Shane eagerly sat down and dug into his food, the two of them sitting across from one another and quietly chatting about their day, the weather, ideas for videos, and other such domestic things. 

Shane loved these quiet moments with Ryan. He loved the soft noises that echoed feebly around the room after a long day on the job; the splatter of the rain against the windows, the faint hush of warm air flowing from the vents, the thrumming of the refrigerator. He loved quiet evenings framed by comfortable silences where it seemed that for once, they could truly be themselves. Having a camera lens constantly trained on them certainly did a number on their minds and stamina, which was why Shane tried to be as true to self as he could be on set, but here in Shane’s apartment they felt tensions relax.

“So, you wanna watch a movie?” Shane asked minutes later, standing beside Ryan, who was washing the dishes whilst tittering to himself on occasion. Shane leant against the counter, trying to meet Ryan’s gaze, but the man was very much zoned out. His eyes seemed blank, fixated on one spot. He scrubbed mechanically. Shane had seen him in this stupor many times before, and recognized it to be a sort of emotional reboot. Ryan would seemingly sort out his thoughts and feelings as best as he could, perhaps compartmentalizing them and bottling them away, but dealing with them nonetheless.

“Earth to Ryan Bergara,” Shane said dryly, poking Ryan on the cheek and grinning when Ryan jolted, blinking rapidly.

“Sorry,” Ryan immediately muttered, swatting away Shane’s persistent poking finger and fighting a smile.

Shane’s face softened immediately. “Don’t gotta apologize, little guy.”

“...Yeah, I know.”

“Did you hear what I said, though?” Shane asked, leaning against the counter.

Ryan flicked dish soap at Shane when he continued to poke and prod him, mischief in his eyes, “No, sorry I...I wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s chill,” Shane responded, his eyes half closed, “I asked whether or not you wanted to watch a movie or something.”

Ryan shook his hands in the sink, sending droplets of water and stray bubbles of soap flying. “...I kinda want to take a shower first,” he said after a moment’s thought.

“Fuck yeah, man, hygiene is fucking important.”

“Yeah, I dunno why I changed into clean clothes before showering, that was kinda dumb in hindsight,” Ryan said sheepishly, drying his hands off and grinning up at Shane.

“I don’t know either, but  _ c’est la vie, _ ” Shane responded dryly.

Ryan wiped his hands on his pants and looked up, his eyes wide. “Maybe while I’m gone you can pick a movie or whatever?”

Shane’s eyebrows shot up like startled crows. “I just bought some popcorn.”

Ryan’s eyes widened further. “Extra butter?”

“A  _ fuckton  _ of butter.”

“Sick,” Ryan replied, a grin appearing once more on his face, a sharp contrast to the tear-framed, dejected frown that had been on his face earlier.

As Ryan closed the bathroom door shut behind him, Shane made preparations for a quiet movie night. As he rooted around his haphazardly organized cupboards looking for a bag of Pop Secret or whichever cheap brand he happened to have on hand, the rain started to pick up. He prepared the popcorn, the microwave wheezing. Hands in pockets, he turned to face the small window that provided the last feeble rays of the day and watched the rain pour in sheets. A wistful smile appeared on his face, a warmth that may or may not be generated from the vent beneath his feet, spreading through him. 

He leant against the fridge, closing his eyes as he soaked in the sounds; the hum of the fridge, the popping of the popcorn, the shuddering of the shower. He felt the hairs on his feet wave with the wafts of air flowing about the apartment. The warmth of the microwave beside him left the rest of him rippled with goosebumps. A tingle threaded through his limbs, originating from his chest, and he felt inner warmth despite the chill of the apartment. It was one of those ethereal times of the day, where light spilled into night and stars seemed to wink down upon the earth and whisper in sonorous tones ‘all will be well’.

And all was well, especially when the microwave dinged and the popcorn was ready. Shane felt his movements become methodic and loose. He was completely at peace, a savory feeling in his chest causing a faint smile to take form on his face and and dimples to soften his cheeks. Whether it was the popcorn or the domestic aura overtaking him he was uncertain; either way, he was completely relaxed when he dumped the popcorn into a large bowl, seasoned it well with salt and copious amounts of butter, and lounged onto the couch, searching for the remote and scanning for a suitable movie. He stretched his legs out before him, making sure to leave a comfortable and safe nook between them for a certain someone whose mind was a malcontent in need of soothing by bodily warmth and another beating heart.

Said malcontent mind could be heard turning off the shower and griping about the chill of the bathroom tiles. As Shane surfed Hulu minutes later, the familiar and odd sound of the door sweeping gently open was heard, followed shortly by the soft padding of bare feet on linoleum and then toes swishing through carpet. Shane craned his neck to see behind the sofa when he sensed something behind him. Sure enough, there stood Ryan, smiling softly and smelling clean. Shane could always sense him; he was a knot of energy, constantly pulsating and fluttering.

“How you feeling?” Shane asked, returning Ryan’s smile and shivering slightly when Ryan gently tried to restyle Shane’s flyaway hair.

Ryan blinked slowly, giving up shortly after and swiping one stray strand of damp hair out of Shane’s face, “I feel a little better.”

“Nice!” Shane said, holding the bowl of popcorn into Ryan’s view, “I bet this will make you feel even betterer.”

“It’s ‘more better’ you idiot,” Ryan corrected, though his gleaming eyes portrayed that he appreciated the gesture.

“Alright Mr. Grammar, just get over here,” Shane chuckled, pulling the popcorn just out of reach as Ryan leaned over the sofa to grab some. He chuckled when Ryan playfully swatted at his head but rounded the couch just the same. He stood before Shane but paused, his eyes glancing to the seat next to Shane and Shane himself. In response, Shane moved the bowl aside and opened his arms, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes crinkling. Ryan breathed a nervous yet delighted giggle and gently and awkwardly climbed onto the sofa and settled down in the crooks of Shane’s knees, snuggling close and sighing when Shane wrapped his arms around him and hugged his knees close. 

Ryan leaned his head back until he could feel Shane’s heartbeat, his back flush with Shane’s warm stomach.  Instantly he closed his eyes, taking a long, deep breath and releasing it in a steady sigh. Finally,  _ finally _ he felt the knots in his shoulders unwinding, the rigidity of his ligaments loosening. As Shane rested his chin comfortably on Ryan’s head, Ryan felt himself become completely boneless, a sensation that immediately made his muscles melt and his lips slightly part.

“Fuck, I needed this,” he breathed, feeling a nerveless fog swathe his brain and the buzz behind his eyes fade into nothingness.

“Comfy?” Shane asked, and Ryan could feel the vibrations of his voice in his back and his head, causing shivers to ripple through his body and warm tension to pool in his gut.

“Mhm,” he grunted affirmingly, nestling even closer so that Shane was encouraged to hold him tighter, groundingly. He pawed at Shane’s hands, which were interlocked around his waist, until Shane let go and clasped Ryan’s hand. Ryan squeezed the large, bony hand, his eyes crinkling with the smile that formed when almost absently Shane rubbed his thumb back and forth across Ryan’s knuckles. 

“Alrighty,” Shane said moments later, causing Ryan to reluctantly open his eyes, “What’re you thinking?”

Ryan peered forward and saw Shane scrolling aimlessly through Hulu, colorful titles flashing in and out of focus, ones they had seen a thousand times and ones they had never seen. 

“I dunno, something mindless,” Ryan mumbled, far too warm and tired to think.

“I have just the thing,” Shane said, rapidly typing out a title. Ryan became concerned when he felt the beginnings of a chuckle forming in Shane’s chest. He squinted at the television and groaned when he saw Shane pull up Unsolved, the backdrop of the two of them pulling stupid wide-eyed looks for the camera making Ryan recoil.

“Goddamnit, Shane,” Ryan said, giggling despite himself. Shane chuckled, and Ryan enjoyed the sensation of lightly being bounced by Shane’s laughing.

“I’m just kiddin’,” Shane said, pressing an apologetic peck to Ryan’s hair, “How about some  _ Parks and Rec _ ? That doesn’t usually require much thought.”

“You always wake me up when you laugh, though.”

“You’re supposed to  _ watch _ , Ryan,” Shane said in mock reprimand, reaching for a handful of popcorn.

Ryan grabbed the bowl of popcorn and placed it in his lap so that he was warm on both fronts, “Not when we watch it until like, three in the morning!”

“You fall asleep in like, the first ten minutes,” Shane argued, typing out  _ Parks and Rec _ .

“I do  _ not _ !” Ryan protested.

“Do  _ too _ ,” Shane retorted.

Ryan grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed it behind him, the kernels bouncing off of Shane’s face. Shane grunted in shock, and retaliated by tickling Ryan on his sides, a known weak spot; this resulted in Ryan barking out a laugh and squirming under Shane’s relentless assault, giggling and pleading. Eventually, Shane stopped, the both of them humming and sighing in contentment and settling more comfortably against one another, enjoying just feeling each other’s warmth, enjoying being themselves and not a facade always held in place in front of a camera lens.

They settled into a comfortable silence as the show’s theme music spread through the apartment. Shane smiled softly as he felt Ryan relax deeper and deeper into his hold; whenever Ryan cuddled against Shane, leant on him, laid upon him, he always held himself up to a certain degree, almost as if he was afraid of crushing Shane. He never seemed to truly relax, especially when they had first begun dating and had thus opened up a larger level of physical contact. But now, as they watched the TV and as the night wore on, he sunk against Shane, his arms loosening and his shoulders relaxing.  

The rain poured down, the rush of water sloshing through the gutter outside intermingling with the tapping of droplets upon the glass of the windows and the occasional bout of laughter at the jokes. Above them the ceiling fan was spinning, the wide blades making slow, sweeping movements and cascading swells of air upon them, causing their drying hairs to swirl and dance. As the episodes carried on and on, the light of the day dimmed to nothingness. The unwavering glow of the streetlight peering through the rain stood as a reassuring counterpart to the milky blue flashes of light cast from the TV that danced along the edges of the thickening shadows of the near quiet living room. Peace descended upon them like a blanket, curling around their tangled limbs and tucking into each crevice of their elbows, fingers, and the corners of their upturned mouths.

Shane too found himself to be caught under the charms of the night. He felt himself sinking lower and lower on the couch, be that from Ryan’s weight or the increasing sleepiness he felt building beneath his skin he was uncertain; however, he could not deny how comfortable he was. True, Ryan, though small in stature, was a stocky guy in decent possession of muscle, was a heavy weight on his chest and made it difficult to breathe at times, Shane was so warm. 

He was very fond of this rather newfound physical closeness with Ryan, newfound in a sense that Ryan had been incredibly adherent to the precepts of ‘no homo’ prior to nervously entering into their relationship. Upon realizing that he would not be struck by lighting nor receive much public ridicule in the liberal mindsetted California, Ryan had somehow proven to be hesitant and eager to date Shane. But in terms of physical affection, his hesitance far outweighed his eagerness. He had a lot of walls to tear down, and Shane was a patient and helping hand. 

But now, as Ryan began to become more and more comfortable and bewitched by sleep, he sank deeper and deeper into Shane’s personal space in a way that made Shane wear a perpetual smile on his face. He pressed his full weight against Shane, relaxing as if he were on his own bed. He constantly sought out Shane’s hand after either of them relaxed their hold on one another to scrounge for the last scraps of popcorn in the bowl. And, as the hands of the clock moved farther and farther beyond midnight, his head slipped down onto Shane’s chest and lolled to the side. Shane peered through the half light at around 12:30 when he felt the grip of Ryan’s fingers on his own loosen, Ryan’s hand slipping limply onto Shane’s thigh. In the glare of the television, Shane could just glimpse Ryan’s downturned eyelashes, lashes that occasionally flickered in what Shane knew to be an indicator of dreams running softly through Ryan’s sleeping mind.

Suddenly, Shane found himself paying no mind to the shenanigans of the workers at Pawnee, for he helplessly became host to a thrumming warmth that radiated in smooth, undulating waves from the center of chest to the very nerve ends of his extremities. Always vulnerable to softness when sleepy, he was unable to prevent a big, goofy grin from appearing on his face. He nuzzled Ryan’s drying hair, inhaling softly as he listened to Ryan’s breath whistle as he breathed deeply and evenly. Shane loved to feel Ryan’s chest rising and falling in sleepy rhythm, loved to listen to him burble to himself as he dreamed, loved to just be so  _ near  _ Ryan. He linked his hands around Ryan’s stomach and rested his cheek against Ryan’s head, not bothering to start the next episode for he wanted merely to savor this moment. This moment of trust.

Shane wasn’t often moved in an emotional sense, but he could never deny how  _ wonderful _ it felt to have someone he cared for so deeply trust him and be comfortable with him. It was oddly empowering to have Ryan limp, warm, and sleeping in his arms; he felt atop of the world, stronger than he really was. He almost felt like a sentinel, or a soldier guarding a precious object. As that thought crossed his mind, he gently pulled Ryan closer, nestling his sleeping form closer while also moving some of his weight off of his diaphragm. In response, Ryan let out an involuntary whine and awkwardly, unconsciously rolled over, his cheek now resting on Shane’s chest and his arms curling around Shane’s, as if he were embracing a teddy bear.

Shane was suddenly awash with a strong feeling he could almost equate to anger, however it was an emotion that caused him to pull Ryan closer to himself, encase him tighter in the hold of his limbs. He marveled to himself as he realized that he was feeling… protectiveness in a caliber that he often only read of in books or witnessed in movies. His heart skipped a few beats and began to pound; he realized he had never felt this way about someone beyond familial attachments ever in his life. He blinked, his eyebrows shooting upwards; this was a momentous realization for him, one that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

However, Shane’s thoughts were interrupted by a soft mumble emitting from Ryan. He looked down and saw Ryan’s face twitching, his eyelids fluttering characteristic to REM sleep and his lips gently opening and closing. The muscles in Shane’s cheeks burned with a slight ache as he smiled even deeper than he thought he ever could. He gently wormed one of his arms from Ryan’s grasp and used it to gently stroke down Ryan’s flyaway hair. Was it the exhaustion tearing down his barriers? How was it that the darkness seem to switch a light in his brain, his heart? How was it that his heart could possibly be so fast when he himself was so still, as motionless as a towering tree so as to not bother the one being he would dare to think to himself as someone who was  _ precious  _ to him?

But bothered said being was, though by no fault of Shane’s own. Ryan’s eyes reluctantly lifted open, and he gazed blearily into the milky mixture of darkness and luminescence emanating from the shadows and the television. His ears rang both with the resounding, ambient silence and a rapid, repetitive pounding that emanated from the deep warmth pressed against his cheek.

“...Shane?” Ryan called out quietly, his voice caked with sleep, moving only his head and craning his neck in an attempt to see Shane’s face. Had he been more awake, he would have jumped when he felt an unexpected hand lace gently through his hair. But he was far too tired to even twitch an eyelash. His body felt heavy, wakefulness slowly seeping into his limbs. He let out a humlike sigh as he gauged how warm he was, the warmth encasing his body almost thrumming, as if the gentle touch of a masseuse was calming his nerves. His mind was utterly void save for the tactile sensations of his body. It felt like a lack of nerves at all, the only sensation that mattered being the electric tingling of Shane’s fingers gently scratching his scalp. He felt his eyelids sinking more and more closed as each tingle of his nerves swayed and danced in his mind, choreographing a pattern of sleep and causing a fog to swathe over his thought processes.

However, just as he felt emptiness begin to steal at the corners on his consciousness, Ryan felt Shane’s chest rise deeply, the suction-like noise of his lungs bringing in air rumbling in his ears. Ryan reluctantly opened his eyes again, as if he knew Shane was about to speak.

And speak he did, though not much was said. However, Shane had a way of using as little words as possible to convey his thoughts.

“Ry…”

Ryan lolled his head so that his neck rested against Shane’s chest, and grumbled when he found he could only see the ceiling and the tip of Shane’s nose. He squirmed until he was flat on his stomach, his shirt riding up so that his bare stomach was pressed against Shane’s own. He could feel the buttons of Shane’s shirt digging in his skin, could even feel Shane’s stomach growl. He huffed out a small laugh and gently flopped down, his chin resting on Shane’s sternum, their noses mere inches apart.

“Mmm?” Ryan hummed in response, blinking heavily.

Shane was smiling softly, and that smile grew as Ryan’s eyes fluttered almost closed when Shane gently swept his hair out of his eyes. Shane’s eyes were shining in the dim light of the Hulu menu screen, the shadows cast on his face not at all unflattering as he looked down at Ryan. Ryan could feel his breath, and his gut soared at the sensation.

Ryan could feel, hear, and see Shane swallow. 

“I know I don’t often  _ say  _ this, but…I just...just” Shane murmured, his voice also thick with sleep, the vibrations long and deep in Ryan’s chin.

He trailed off, his lips pursing and his eyebrows sinking, making his eyes seem forlorn as they wandered away from Ryan’s own gaze.

Ryan felt his heart unexpectedly begin to pound, the back of his hands pricking with the sensation of the minute hairs there standing on end, almost in anticipation.

“...Just-?” he prompted softly, expecting Shane to fumble with his words for several moments longer when-

“-I just love you so, so much.”

Ryan blinked, and finally, he met Shane’s gaze. He really wished he could say something heartfelt in response, something to reciprocate the depth of the gesture Shane had just made, Shane being a man of physical gestures and not verbal ones, but Ryan was far to devoid of much rationale to do anything but blink for a split second before surging forward and sleepily, as well as probably sloppily, pressing his lips to Shane’s. His eyes closed not with exhaustion but with utter bliss and mind melting happiness when Shane reciprocated, eye also falling closed, tilting his head back slightly to achieve a better angle.

Moments later, they separated, merely breathing in one another and enjoying one another’s warmth with closed eyes and searingly, blissfully empty minds. Shane sighed happily and gently leant forward until Ryan felt Shane’s warm forehead press against his own, the tips of Shane’s hairs tickling across the sensitive skin. He giggled lightly and nuzzled against Shane’s nose.

“...Point taken.” Shane whispered moments later, and Ryan opened his eyes to find Shane gazing at him softly, adoringly. He stared back questioningly for a moment, and then flushed.

Ryan laughed, his arm quivering from propping himself up for so long. He bumped his head against Shane’s affectionately.

“Sorry,” he giggled, his face flushing, “I’d like... _ say  _ something, but...like…”

He trailed off as a yawn overtook his final words, his arms swaying slightly before giving out beneath him as he gently collapsed onto Shane’s torso again.

“But it’s time for bed,” Shane finished softly, his tone warm and his voice thrumming once more in Ryan’s cheek. Ryan groaned almost inaudibly, but made no movement towards getting up.

“Come on, little guy,” Shane said encouragingly, his voice soft and sweet as he shifted his weight so as to sit up, “Let’s go to bed.”

Ryan grumbled and shifted slightly, not trying his best to fight off the wave of exhaustion cloaking itself around him.

“I’d offer to carry you, but I’d probably die, so you’re on your own,” Shane said, waiting patiently for Ryan to maneuver himself to a sitting position.

“...How sweet,” Ryan muttered as he yawned, resting his elbow on his knee while rubbing one eye. He hummed when he felt Shane wrap his arms around Ryan’s stomach, and groaned slightly when he felt Shane gently lip at the back of his neck, just above the top of his spine.

“You’ve gained quite a bit of muscle, bud,” Shane murmured, his breath ruffling the fine hairs at the base of Ryan’s head, “And muscle is heavier than fat, so-”

Ryan groaned and grabbed at Shane’s hands, squeezing them to cut him off. “Don’t science...it’s to late for science.”

He felt a puff of amusement on the back of his neck, and he shivered. “Let’s go to bed then?” he heard and felt Shane whisper.

Ryan mumbled in sleepy affirmation, and unsteadily rose to his feet, his balance quickly restored by smooth, gentle hands steadying him at his waist. Ryan grinned, and leaned back into the hug that followed, his eyes closing at the warmth blowing into his hair and Shane buried his nose into hair. They oscillated slowly for a moment, listening to the other’s breath and the slackening rain falling outdoors and flowing through the gutters. Ryan sighed and savored the blank warmth humming in his chest; it seemed ages ago that his chest was knotted and tight with near crippling anxiety. But now, that didn’t seem to matter. Nothing seemed to matter when he was Shane, and that was why he loved him so.

Eventually, Shane released Ryan and reached for the remote, the TV clicking off and casting them both in darkness, the only light filtering from the orangey glow of the street lights outside. Ryan swore softly and Shane laughed at his blunder. It was an error of love and one that elicited giggles and tired, blind kisses on noses, cheeks, and an accidental chin. Eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness only two AM could bring, they bumped through the living room using only the lights from their dying phones until they found the bedroom, where they tumbled onto the bed and sighed aloud with the contentment one felt upon entering a familiar bed after a long day

Outside, the clouds slowly filtered away, long enough for the last beams of the moon to filter into the bedroom that now echoed with a warm silence and two mismatched breathing patterns. The rain slackened off, the only water being the drip of rainwater sliding from the gutter and onto the windowsill. Fingers of light peered at the horizon. There would be peace between the two men as they enfolded themselves in the sheets, peace that would evaporate as those fingers of sunlight grew brighter, alarms went off, and coffeemakers percolated the next day for work. But that was OK, for that peace always, always came back. 

So long as Ryan and Shane had each other, there would always be peace to look forward to; as Ryan arose the next morning to the rude sound of his alarm screaming from the floor, he found himself already longing for his time spent alone with Shane in the evenings. It felt like evening would never come again. But it was soon to be; the week was soon to end, and Ryan just knew that the ending was going to be a happy, sweet one.

And he could hardly wait.   
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> HEY ALL this is my first Shyan fic! Let me start with a disclaimer; I don't ship the Boyes(TM) IRL; I ship the personas they give off in the bits of the show! I understand and respect the fact that they are in relationships and have not and will never take any steps to contact them or anyone else with my ideas. I'm just minding my own business here, and you always have the option to not read if you don't enjoy this type of work!
> 
> That being said (this transitional phrase is RUINED FOR ME NOW), I hope you enjoyed this self indulgent fluff! You can find me on Tumblr @buzzwheezing or @theonlyjelly-iwillput-inmybelly. Thank you for reading, and give a kudos and a comment if you enjoyed!


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